Concealed
by Kiaa Ethel
Summary: What happens when Draco's cover is compromised? What happens when he and Hermione Granger are forced together to trace and destroy the remaining hocruxes? ONE-SHOT! Dramione!
1. Concealed

A/N: This one shot is based on a prompt, which was-

" ** _What d_ o y _ou mean we are married_ ?!"**

 ** _"It's a long story."_**

 ** _She grabbed him by the collar and pulled close. "It's a long trip," she pointed to wards the snow covered mountain peaks outside, "you better start talking."_**

Time: During the war,

Morning

Setting: Trans-Siberian Railway, couples suite, coach 4-1-B2

 _Enjoy!_

Draco looked out of the window, shifting his eyes to a more mobile view than on the pages of the book he had been reading past 5 hours. It was proving even more harder than he had speculated. A sigh escaped his lips. His face was emotionless. His reflection in the window stared back at him. Snow covered mountains sprinting in the background.

The one and only saint of the wizarding world that came up with thus plan. He had never admit it but it was actually good. No that potter could come up with something this of a long shot.

All that the plan was flee by faking his death and find the rest of the hocruxes.

Another sigh.

Yes he had become a spy for the order along with Snape. It had been his mother's dying wish. But deep down he knew he wanted the same- at least not to follow a psycho half blood. Potter was their only hope.

But he would _never_ voice it out.

A smirk tucked his face.

The train gave a low lurch. Yet... it was enough to bring him back to the present. His smirk slid off.

His cover had almost blown up. Or was about to. But that had been covered up. The chosen one coming up with a full-fledged plan to find the remaining hocruxes.

All he needed to do was fake his death. Okay. Two deaths. Ther other than Hermione Granger herself. Being his intermediator, her identity was compromised.

A blast at Hogwarts east tower and an another at St Mungo's had done the job.

So now the question arises that... how did our "oh-so-pureblood" Draco Malfoy ended up in a muggle train, no less, to Moscow?

Well for one... this wasn't exactly in their script. Okay, just sugar coated over! "Lay low" as Kingsley had quoted it.

Second..., he had thought it would be less stressful for them if they moved continuously, so they don't need to brainstorm every day for a new place to hide.

They call it the longest train journey in the muggle world, of course.

So now he was sitting in the supposed "muggle train". He was only able to get a separate suite under the condition that the passengers were couples. So he was forced fake another incident. But a more interesting then faking deaths.

So where was Hermione Granger?

Oh, that he would had said.

She was actually-

Click!

The door to bedroom opened.

Draco sighed.

Now she was awake.

At last. It was beginning to get quite boring, as it is.

Time to face a fake interrogation.

Taking out his wand he calmly entered the small common room of their suite.

Hermione Granger stood there, in her wedding gown, wand out, still within the frame of the bedroom door.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Fear and dread crossed over her face.

" _Malfoy_?!"

"Yes?"

In comparison to her he seemed rather calm.

" _How_...?" She gazed around, trying to figure out everything. Her lips slightly apart in a mixed fixture of confusion and fear, as she took in the dark wood interior of the train, scanning the length of the low ceiling above to the comparitvely huge size of the window. Even the sofa were quite royally matched with the decoratives.

Clearly she was having hard time wrapping her mind around her circumtances. A perfectly coherent question was beginning to get impossible. Her mind was in absolute chaos. All she now wanted answers.

"Malfoy, wh-" she started, her pitch high enough for the neighbour passengers to hear her clearly.

" _Rumor_ has it, we are married. So you will want to keep your voice down, _love_." He said almost flippantly, but Hermione noticed the desperte edge in his voice. "You don't want our neighbers to know we are fighting in only just-" he fake checked his watch, "20 hours, do you?"

" _What do you mean we are married_ ?!"

"It's a long story."

She grabbed him by the collar and pulled close. "It's a _long_ tript," she pointed to wards the snow covered mountain peaks outside, "you better start talking."

* * *

She stood there. Gazing at moving scenery, covered every each by snow. The view combined with her white wedding dress, beutifully contrasted with the dark interiors. Including Draco's impeccable black suit, leaving only his pale skin, grey eyes and the blond hair challengly contrasting.

He sipped from his glass of firewhisky, never taking his eyes off of her.

When he had started to explain, she had continuously denied it. Almost dutifully. Untill now... he had respectfully given her time to let it all sink, to properly understand their delicate plan which was already running in action.

He had expected questions all along during his speaking. But she had staued rather quiet. Maybe she will start now. Draco almost wished it to be true. He was testing. He was getting rather impatient he was confident enough to have no doubt. Yet he still wanted to confirm, that the effects of his _Imperi_ _o_ hadn't lasted longer than assumed.

It felt like an enternity before she finally stirred. Her eyes met his unwavering gaze, determination shining in them. Also a glimpse of impatience. He almost smiled, although he did smirked.

"So where are the books? As per you, we can't lose more time can we? Why not start now?"

Contrasting against her impatience he finished his drink with almost an annoying, mocking slowness. He calmly stood up and gestured her to follow him into the dining room where their reaearch books were stuffed.

"Wait."

He did stopped, but didn't turn.

"Just answer me this again." Her voice was timid. Almost a strained whisper. He waited patiently. She took a long deep breath.

"Did Harry _really_ asked you to _Imperio_ me and flee?"

He nodded. His face still not visible to her.

"Should I trust you?"

This time he had to turn.

A swift step towards her and he trapped her against the wooden wall. Her hands were initially behind her to feel the wall while retreating backward. But when he moved even closer, she lifted her hands as if to stop him. Her fingers felt the crisp fabric of his oxford white shirt, her hands were effectivly concealed between them both. His hands were still by his sides.

He had his guards down. He was willingly letting her see him. Actually see him. Now that she was staring right into them, she couldn't help but notice that his eyes weren't steel gray as she had once imagined. No. They were like molten silver with specks of periwinkle swirling in them. She knew that sheshe could trust him now. Harry had trusted him. She was going to do the same too.

The train stopped to a sudden halt. She gasped as she was jerked towards him. Her grip tightened, wrinkling his perfect shirt. His hand on her arms steadied her. When she finally met his eyes after the few fleeting lapses, he pulled back.

"I should probably check outside. Do not leave alone."

And even before she as so much as move an inch or settle her racing heart he was out and gone. The main door swiftly clicked back into place.

...

 **A/N: What do you think? Praises and critics considered equal!**

 **Also this is left open-ended... and I have decided the end.. but still not sure if I will continue or not?**

 **Thank You to all who reviewed, followed and favourited Precarious, His way and Ostentatious!**


	2. Grey

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP.**

 **A/N:** Before you read I would like my dear readers to keep in mind that for the sake of this story, pls assume that Draco and Hermione have yet to gain knowledge that the sword of Gryffindor can destroy a Horcrux. Meaning, that for now, only the Bascillic fang has the ability to destroy a Horcrux.

Thank you and Enjoy!

* * *

December 1997

.

Hermione woke up to a muffled sound of the door closing shut and locked, followed by the distinct 'pop' of an apparition. She stiffened and sat up, wide awake. Although she and Draco had placed several wards for protection, she was ready, hand gripping the wand.

 _"Homenum revelio"_ She whispered but their suite turned out to be negative of any human presence. She sighed, slumping back into the red cushiony chair she hadn't left almost a day, massaging her neck from the awkward position she had dozed off on.

Her sleepy gaze roamed around the small room that she and Draco had somehow managed to modify in a more of a study room in the past days for their research. Piles and piles of books surrounded each vacant space. Not to mention the small tea table in the corner by the window, where the books lay as if they would tumble over any moment along with the table itself.

A thick _finished_ book on her lap weighed down on her lap. But what drew her wavering attention was a folded piece of paper perched on the top of the closed teacup lying on a tray on the table.

She unfolded the roughly edged piece of paper to reveal Draco's flawless handwriting.

 ** _Off to find a sensible accommodation. I took the liberty to order you brunch. Can you attempt looking at page 397 of 'Whispering Hallows: Ancient and Antiques' while I am gone?_**

His writing voiced no haste. And Hermione knew for a certain surety about what he _actually_ meant by 'sensible remain'.

The previous three months of Horcruxe hunting with her best friends hadn't been the same as the past week with Draco. If you exclude the regular absence of her previous companions, the past days were quite pleasant, and _it does include_ the fact that she had warm food and bed every day. _And_ Hermione didn't need to frustrate herself every time with Ron's dumb suggestions _or_ make him understand her any theories she would come up with.

But, _here_ instead she could argue, debate and discuss with Draco of what she had found in a particular book. They have by now discussed various places where the remaining Horcruxes will be and even what they might be.

She couldn't pinpoint how or when it had become so easy with him being around. He was intelligent and challenging. He would often point out any missing gaps in her endless ranting.

Hermione placed the text she held atop the small pile beside her feet. She stood and stretched. Looking out of the window displaying the endless mountains and trees covered with snow, she had to believe it somewhere near mid-morning because _he_ had specified her _tea_ as _brunch._

She promptly finished her tea as she read through his highlighted paragraph oh his requested book. She gasped as she barely comprehended the metaphorical meaning of the prophecy lines printed on the page, her mind spinning out of control as she finally understood why Draco had underlined the lines adding a single question mark at the end as an afterthought.

 _Finally a lead!_ She squealed silently and shuffled through to grab the books on similar material to read on, an almost triumph smile on her face as she imagined what Godric Hollow would look like.

.

When he returned, Draco found Hermione on the suite floor reading through four books at once. At his sudden appearance, she jerked in surprise and hit her head at the rim of the tea table.

"Clearly," Draco chuckled, "someone had a busy morning."

Hermione glared, massaging her temple.

"Found anything interesting?" He sat down, across from her as she started explaining her theory, annoyed to find that he already knew quite about the 'Elder Wand'. Because if they need to find the most powerful wand then 'Godric Hollow' was an answer.

.

It was fairly dark outside, the window shone tiny city lights blinking at the horizon when Draco decided to cut through Hermione's perusal through a tattered thick text labeled "Destroying Horcruxes".

"We should pack now." Observing the hourglass that said it only had been three hours since they have sat down researching again after a mini lunch pause, reminding them it was only a matter of minutes before they reached their destination.

 _Moscow was a beautiful city in time Christmas, he told her._

She glanced outside and nodded, shutting the main four _books of interest_ and adding them into her beaded bag.

"The locket, Granger." Motioning towards her small bag giving her a meaningful look.

While Draco flicked his wand sending their possessions into the enlarged trunk, snapping it shut. Hermione added a shrinking and a featherweight charm.

However, before she can drop it into her beaded bag Draco replaced the tiny trunk with a black umbrella. To Hermione's confused face he smirked, "See you there, Granger."

As if on cue the 'umbrella' portkey activated and Hermione was only caught glimpse of him leaving a generous tip on the table before apparating himself, the Slytherin locket gleaming around his neck.

.

When Hermione found her footing, she stood in the middle of snow caved street away from a singular street lamp.

The lamp only illuminated a side of a road and the War memorial in the center of the cross-section. An unknown feeling stirred inside Hermione as she realized she was back in England.

In the distant, Hermione could make out the linings of a church lit with Christmas lights blinking hazily through the snow.

A motion in the dark shadows beside the memorial snapped Hermione's attention, but she immediately relaxed as he stepped into a minimal light. A flash of white-blond complete with his signature black robes. He was gazing at the memorial stone with a blank expression. He half-turned his head, glancing directly on the ground as if requesting her presence there.

When Hermione stood by him, she gasped as the memorial altered into a stone statue of three figures: a man with messy hair and glasses, a woman carrying a baby boy in her arms. She was painfully aware of Draco watching her on the brink of tears. She was also quite aware when his gloved fingers wrapped around hers before forcefully tugging her firmly away.

"We should at least pay our respects," Hermione insisted matching his walking pace. She audibly heard him release a sigh before agreeing.

As they approached the church, the singing grew louder, in fact too loud for it not to be the Christmas Eve. Hermione jerked her head up at Draco to check if he had come to the same realization instead she saw him smirk. "Happy Christmas, Granger."

There was a kissing gate at the entrance of the cemetery. Hermione tried to open them as quietly as possible, the hinges seemed old and scratchy. As they wandered deeper, rows and rows of tombstones covered with snow. Hermione walked to the nearest grave while Draco waded deeper.

A few minutes later Draco called Hermine to a significantly old grave. He had scraped a part of the grave revealing a name and an odd symbol. Hermione gasped, "That's was on the book." Draco nodded, "The Deathly Hallows, more like."

Hermione had by now opened the old book Dumbledore had given her. "It is hand-drawn here. It could mean that-"

 _"He is after the elder wand."_ And Hermione had no doubt he meant _Voldemort._

Hermione tried to connect, "It says Ig — Ignotus, I think..."

"It had always connected itself to the Peverell family. It's not a coincidence that this" he pointed at the sign "could not be here." He crouched down, his face indifferent yet doubtless studying his own thoughts.

If she could describe him then, with an uncanny resemblance, Hermione would have admired him by his intelligence, like a diamond: cold, hard but _brilliant_.

He looked up at her as if remembering something. "Does that book of yours include 'The Tale of Three Brothers'?"

Hermione flipped through pages of the already memorized book.

He stood up, brushing off imaginary dust. "Coming here had an advantage after all. We at least know what he is looking for."

.

After a short while, Hermione had managed located the graves of Harry's parents. Hermine couldn't decide on single emotion to feel at the sight. Draco must have noticed her standing still because he silently made his way, stopping beside her. She saw him slightly bent over the graves as if silently paying his respects.

Hermione pulled out her wand, raising it above the tombstones drew a circle. A wreath of Christmas flowers appeared placing it at the stone.

Hermione watched slowly the snow settling on top of the fresh flowers when both she jerked at the apparent screech of metal hinges. A bush nearby the gate shook. "There's someone here. Someones watching us."

Draco peered at the bushes identifying a blurred form of a person he commanded in a low voice. _"We leave."_

As they walked out, they found the same shabby figure looking at them. The figure had moved a significant distance from them making itself unidentifiable, standing beside building destroyed to ruins. It was enough to make them stop dead in their tracks.

The figure moved a couple of steps forward as if identifying itself. The snow didn't help much. Hermione gasped, "Isn't that ... isn't she-"

"Bathilda Bagshot." Draco finished.

The old lady, to their notice, raised gloved hand beckoned them to come near. She stood staring at the ruins, obviously belonging to Harry's parents.

Hermione could feel Draco's hand holding hers tightly, ready to disapparate anytime while his other hand held his wand tighter, twisting hard. She jumped a bit when he spoke.

 _He had noticed the house transform too._

"Are you Bathilda Bagshot?" The muffled old figure nodded and beckoned again. Hermione's fings tightened. Something was just setting her on _edge_. The most unsettling feeling was of the realization that she did not felt excited or even overjoyed at the sight of a person so close to _Dumbledore._

Soon she found herself following the living legend walking close beside Draco, for the solen hope to find another Horcrux. To her confusion, Draco gave a short jerk as if he had experienced some kind of electric static when they entered her house. At her unasked question, he just shook his head.

The house, in every way, uttered a single word: _old_. Everything smelled and looked old, rusted, degraded, dissolved, dissolute. The house gave an uneasy feeling to Hermione. Both her and Draco's powerfull 'Lumos' did not help much either.

The lady beckoned them even further into the house revealing a staircase. "Miss Bagshot, do you want to tell us something?" Draco enquired. "Is there a reason you have brought us here?"

The lady merely glanced back at them, before continuing up, as if she hasn't heard him at all. An odd shadow reflected on the wall opposite moved. Hermione conceded it to the curtains wind. Windows on the second floor were visible from halfway on the stairs.

Hermione whispered, "Do we need to go up?"

Draco nodded, "Its the only way to find out, Granger." As an afterthought, he added, "Why don't you look downstairs? I'll go up." He could no longer deny the uncanny behavior of the Horcrux as it shook madly around his neck concealed beneath his dark coat. Nor the slight twitches of pain on his left arm.

Hermione agreed and retraced her steps back down while Draco followed the old woman up. Once on the landing, the old lady led Draco into a large spacious room covered in piles of all sorts of dirty laundry, uncleaned dishes, and wood dust.

Draco immediately scanned the room to look for an abnormal object to be a Horcrux, founding none he tried again, "Is there something you want to tell me, Miss Bathilda Bagshot?" Locking his eyes onto hers he casted a non-verbal 'Leglimens'. He felt the familiar sensation of being sucked into a skull but to his disbelief was met with a mental wall.

A _hiss_ echoed from somewhere behind him, making his hairs stand on edge. He dragged himself out just in time to see a shadow hower over him. A green jet of a spell seared towards him. Narrowly deflecting it himself, he answered with several Unforgivables of his own. The attacker must have been distracted giving Draco several seconds. In an attempt to shield the old woman, Draco glanced at her. To his stupefaction, Bathilda Bagshot seemed to be shrinking in height and be morphing into a particular _slimy_ _horror._ The body of the old lady collapsed has the snakehead raising. As the snake rose, Antonin Dolohov

And in bewilderment watched as Antonin dolohov steeped behind the snake

The snake struck at him, swishing at large tail, sending the wooden cabinet laden with crockery down. The glass splintered and flew everywhere. Draco narrowly saved himself, hurling every injurious spell at the snake, setting his priority to escape this hell alive. He dove aside to avoid another struck of the snake, while Dolohov chuckled wickedly as a loud thud downstairs made him aware of the other presence.

Draco caught a glimpse of Dolohov disappearing from the room as the snake slithered to corner him, his left arm scratched at the broken wooden cabinet leaving a quick gash. Blood oozed freely before he jerkily muttered a spell to stick the two parts of the skin together temporarily.

His only option now seemed more palpable than ever. He blasted a hole in the wooden floor, effectively making the snake lose its balance praying it won't fall on Hermione downstairs, being hole was in a corner.

Relief flooded through him he caught a glimpse of a red clock swishing past the corner of the hole he had burned. The snake recoiled hissing about in anger from being dropped from the floor. It hissed at him.

A few quick strides and Draco caught Dolohov vulnerable from behind. But before he can curse the damn Death Eater to shreds he froze, eyes wide in fear. The snake had moved out of its corner and was making it's way ready to strike at Hermione's unwatched back. Draco doubted she noticed, being dueling with Dolohov.

Draco aimed the killing curse at the Snake. While the green jet of death had no whatsoever effect on the snake both Hermione and Dolohov noticed his presence. But it was a momentary glance in his direction before the snake hurled itself again at Hermione. Draco deflected snakes head by sending a large table to hit the snake. The snake shook its head and slithered in Draco's direction instead.

He aimed a burning hex when he heard a cry from Hermione. Her wand had expelled from her hand, leaving bleeding wounds behind. Draco watched in horror as Dolohov deliberately stepped over the wooden stick breaking it into pieces.

Dolohov moved towards Hermione couched on the floor shaking, her still good hand searching for a defense. She jerked as he grabbed her by the throat, bringing his face nears hers. He licked a side of her face emitting a dark chuckle. But before Draco can cast the killing curse, the snake hurled its tail, smacking Draco in the stomach, crashing him against the bookcase. Draco could feel the blood trickling at the nape of his neck. In his crash, his wand had clattered out of his reach. He wandlessly casted another temporary charm to heal his head injury when he fell into momentary blackout only to gain conscious to find himself in the death hold of the snake.

The snake took several wandless burns and curses from Draco but they were only severe enough to keep at bay. Draco tried to wriggle free of the tight hold, he wanted a good sight to cast a shield charm on her when he heard Hermione yell in anger followed by a scream from Dolohov himself. The thrashing head of the snake obscured view heavily, however it too sidled to side.

Hermione stood shaking over the body, her bloodied hands holding a silver sword in the torso. She twisted it in his guts till the body writhed to a stop before pulling it out completely. Draco took the snakes distraction and casted a nonverbal 'Immobulus', as Hermione dragged the silver blade and swung it at the snakes head, passing by Draco's head just millimeters away beheading it.

Draco untangled himself, as the snake's body started vibrating, writhing and growing immensely hot until it turned to smoke.

Draco heard a small shrill sound of the metal scraping the floor before he found himself in a chocking hold of the locket around. It hung in the air trying to break free as being pulled by something. Draco wriggled on the floor trying to pull the locket off. His left arm ached and he couldn't breathe. With great effort, he removed the Horcrux and held tight. Sitting upright on inspection he found foul green smoke swirling inside.

A low thud beside retrieved him out of the hypnotizing smoke. Hermione had fallen to her knees and had crawled the little distance between them. Dragging the sword in one hand, as if it was too _heavy_ for her _._ Tears rolled down freely as her whole body shook. With her, every crawl the locket in Draco's hand shook even harder. When she finally let go of the death grip on the sword as Draco forced it off, she collapsed on his lap giving him the last clue to his connection.

His eyes roamed several times between the sword and the locket. Realizing the dangerous weight the objects held he slipped the locket on his wrist and spelled the locket to stick with skin. Then he reached for his wand, clutching Hermione tightly he apparated to a few different settings before finally landing in their new suite in Moscow. He placed Hermione on the cushiony couch in the center, before hurrying off to spell the entire suite in all the protection charms he could think off. His breath was coming out in ragged puffs.

He glanced at Hermione's shaking figure, hands hugging herself and muttering incoherently, before he apparated again, the sword in hand and the Horcrux in another.

He again stood inside the half-demolished house of the already long deceased Miss Bagshot. He bent on his knees, holding the Horcrux with his left uttered a few words in Parseltongue- courtesy to Potter. He knew it had reacted. Just as the locket flipped open, Draco rammed the sword of Gryffindor on it. The force ejected, sent Draco a few back a second time that night. He got on with a few unsteady feet before he took the destroyed Horcrux, sliding it inside his pocket left the house.

Facing the half-ruined building for the last time, he raised his wand. "Fiendfyre!"

After watching for a few moments in silent satisfaction as his fire dragon consumed every each of the property into nothing but dust and smoke as the snow swirled in the atmosphere. He turned, with a distinct 'pop', disapparated.

.

Appearing into the suite, he noticed Hermione's absence but the running shower in the past room explained it. He flopped on the plush couch. Squeezing his eyes tight as the ache connected to every moment finally registered. Swishing his wand he summoned various vials and salves. The glass vials placed themselves atop the glass table right beside the sword still clad in blood and destroyed Horcrux. As Draco got rid of his vest and shirts, he could finally all the scars. The purple slashes aligned parallelly displaying the pressures left by the snake. Several deep cuts marred his torso as well. Dropping a few drops of Essence of Dittany on his shoulder and hissed as it healed its skin at an alarming rate. His head rolled on the headrest starring at the blurry ceiling above.

The itch at the back of his neck reminded him of his head injury, with a gasp all of a sudden he recalled Hermione's injury. Pouring drops of Dittany at the gash right above his ear, he took it the bathroom with several other vials.

"Granger?" He called, at the foggy glass. Confusion etched in when he failed to notice any of her discarded clothes.

He a heard a splash and a thud inside making his stomach twist.

"Granger! Granger!" He banged on the glass, _"Hermione!"_

Shaking in frustration he uttered a wandless 'Alohamora' finding Hermione still clad in her clothes soaked shaking on the floor. She was madly scrubbing her hands as if getting rid of something sticky. Draco moved forward, his feet noting the alarming temperature of the water. He noticed it was on the hottest setting. Changing it to a warm one, he settled down beside her. The water flowing away from her was marred with streaks of red.

He took a deep breath, "Hermione?" He asked, taking her clawing hands in his own, albeit forcefully. As if only then noticing his presence. Her eyes were wide in fear. The tears rolled down, mixing with the water overhead. Her lips trembled, "I-I-...Draco, I am sorry." She sniffed. Draco could feel her crumbling as she held on so tight. He knew what was she going through. He was just 17 when Lucius had proposed the Dark Lord to have him kill.

Draco squeezed her hand, reassuring her he was there. Hermione nodded meekly, before letting her head drop on his bare chest. She inhaled, shuddering. Draco calmly slipped off her hands letting them wrap on his back after freeing off sleeves of her red cloak.

Throwing it at the opposite wall, he cupped her face, "Granger? I am going to check for injuries."

Hermione opened her chocolate brown orbs to look straight into his icy blue ones and nodded before settling on his chest again. He could see the clear red stain of blood on her pink top around the stomach stretching around halfway around the waist. Draco swore hard.

Draco curled up her shirt upward assess her wound. Sighing he reached over to retrieve Dittany. As he squished drops in the lines of the gash, Hermione clamped harder. "Is it that bad?" She chuckled darkly.

Draco watched in slow satisfaction as it healed and patched up her skin, sighing. He couldn't feel her tears, being completely soaked from head to toe, but he didn't need to. The shudders that racked her body were enough as cried and tried to reason out.

"I-I-I didn't know," She told him, taking his face in her shaky hands. "I though-t it was the um-umbrella you gave me." She hicked.

She had mistaken the sword for the portkey.

"I-I am so-sorr-" Draco couldn't let her finish that, so he closed the remaining gap between them and sought her lips.

Hermione didn't even seem surprised, as she wanted to do it for so long. Draco took it as a positive sign and threaded his hands in her hair.

He broke off for air, looking at her face, brightening with a faint blush. He gave a smile in return before placing a small kiss on her forehead before coaxing her in his embrace closing his eyes and relaxed at last. Hermione took the much-needed comfort as well, listening to his heart beating and alive beneath her fingers as she, too, lulled to sleep.

* * *

 _Review?_


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